


As If We Never Said Goodbye

by lionessvalenti



Category: White Collar
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-29
Updated: 2010-05-29
Packaged: 2017-10-09 18:51:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/90442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionessvalenti/pseuds/lionessvalenti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The truth comes out with only a week left on Neal's sentence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As If We Never Said Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [50 Ways to Leave Your Lover challenge](http://skidmo-fic.livejournal.com/53798.html). I chose the prompt "leaving the country". Beta read by lefaym.

Peter snuggled down next to Neal, resting his head on Neal's chest. He liked the way Neal's arm snaked around him, and held him close. It was comfortable. After two years, it was almost routine, but nothing with Neal was ever routine. Everything had purpose.

"There's something we haven't talked about," Peter said, sliding his hand up Neal's stomach.

"Next week," Neal said faintly. They had been avoiding the topic for so long, they couldn't do it anymore. They were running out time.

"You'll be a free man." Peter circled his middle finger around Neal's nipple. He needed something to do with his hands. "What are your plans? What do you want to do?"

Neal hesitated. "I don't know. Travel? I mean, four years ago, this was all I could think about, and now... no Kate. No reason to do all those things, but I've been stuck here for so long. I miss Paris, and Milan; Prague. I took me a while to realize I could go there alone, too. I want to go to South America. I've never been to Brazil. Maybe hit Tokyo, I haven't been there in a decade. Great city."

Peter nodded. He had expected that much. After four years in prison, then another four years only in New York, of course Neal would want to get out and travel. He had always traveled. "When do you think you'll come back?"

"Come back?"

"Yeah, you know, here? Not to... settle down, I know that's not you, but a home?"

"I don't know," Neal said. "Maybe in a few years? What is -- Peter, you're going to miss me, aren't you?"

Peter pulled away, sitting up on an elbow. Neal was smiling at him, that smooth, easy smile that was both adorable and infuriating. "You're damn right I'm going to miss you. What did you think this was?"

The smile faded. "What do you mean?"

"This. You and me. This is important to me. I didn't risk my job and my marriage--"

"Hey, Elizabeth adores me. Your marriage is fine, unless there's something you haven't been telling me."

Peter shook his head. "No, I think there's something _you_ aren't telling _me_. What's going on?"

Neal sat up, completely breaking away from the intimate moment. "Nothing. It's the same situation we've always been in."

"No, it's not. In a week, you're not going to be in my custody anymore. We wouldn't have to..." Peter's voice trailed off when he realized exactly what Neal meant. That's what Neal loved. He loved doing something wrong, going behind someone's back, or in this case, behind the back of the Bureau. He couldn't commit criminal acts, so he had to take his risks where he could. For the last two years.

Peter sat up suddenly, kicking back the blankets. He turned and his feet his floor. "Shit. You've been playing me."

Neal wrapped his arms around Peter's middle, and they pressed together, chest to back. "No, Peter, I haven't. This has been great, but what did you think was going to happen? That I'd stay forever?"

"No, but I didn't think you'd leave forever." Peter turned so he could look Neal in the face. "I love you."

"Oh, Peter." Neal kissed him softly on the mouth, then again on the forehead. "I know you do. I loved you, too."

"And you don't now. Now that it's not completely unethical."

Neal at least had the decency to look away. "I didn't think it would be like this," he said quietly.

"When were you going to tell me?" Peter asked. "Were you going to say anything at all? Were you just going to get on a plane without saying goodbye?"

"I don't know. I hadn't planned that far ahead."

"Damn it, Neal." Peter shook him off, and stood up. He walked over to the sofa, where he had shed his clothes earlier, and started getting dressed.

"Don't be like that. We can -- it can still be a good week. We can still have a really good week."

"No, we can't." He turned and looked at Neal. "You used me to get your rocks off, and I'm not talking about the sex. You needed a thrill, and what better way to get it than fucking the FBI agent in charge of you."

Neal shook his head as he stood. "No. It wasn't like that. Peter, I swear. I loved you. I just... I loved you more when you were chasing me."

"I don't think you know what love is." Peter pulled his tee shirt over his head. "You know about obsession. Like you were obsessed with Kate, and you were obsessed with me, especially when I was chasing you. Everyone thinks you're some romantic, but all you are is someone who knows what feels good. This felt great, just like stealing paintings, pulling scams, and forging a goddamn map of Vinland. And now the minute it's not about getting away with something, you lose interest. That's not love, Neal. I don't even know what it is."

Neal stared at him for a moment, then shrugged, defeated. "It's who I am. And you knew that, and you fell in love with me anyway. So, don't blame me for that."

Peter put on his coat, and nodded. "You're right. That's not your fault. I thought you were different now, and I should have known better." He started for the door.

"Peter."

He stopped and turned to Neal, standing there, still naked except for the tracker on his ankle. He looked beautiful, but he wasn't perfect. "Yeah?"

"I'm sorry," Neal said. There was the distinct possibility he might have even meant it.

Peter nodded, and reached for the door knob. "Okay. Thank you." He opened the door, and he left.

\--- --- ---

The week passed slowly with lots of emotionless greetings, and Peter was just grateful they weren't working anything big. There was no banter, no brainstorming, and no feelings.

After Neal had his anklet cut for the final time, everyone in the office, even Hughes, took him out for a celebratory drink. Everyone, that is, except Peter, who went home. Elizabeth was waiting for him. They didn't have to say anything as he curled up in her arms.

The next morning, the two of them went to June's house. Elizabeth had been so understanding and far too good for him in these last two years. He wasn't too foolish to know that. He could spend the next two years, happily making it up to her, even when she would insist he had done nothing wrong, but he still felt like he owed her.

Peter stood alone in what was once Neal's room. Elizabeth was just on the other side of the half-open door, giving him a moment alone. When they walked in, June told them that Neal had left early, before seven. Now, Peter stared at what remained of Neal in the room: an empty Bordeaux bottle sitting on the table.

Something stung Peter inside as he stared at the bottle. He got the message, he understood the sentiment, but this wasn't their symbolism. This was the symbol of who Neal used to be. Maybe it was the person Neal wanted to be again, now that he was on his way to Paris, Milan, or Prague. Wherever.

"Honey?"

He turned and nodded to Elizabeth. She walked up to him and took his hand.

"Are you going to be okay?"

Peter nodded again as he picked up the bottle. "It's time to go home."


End file.
